


Devotion

by Odessa Santa Maria (yuumegari)



Series: Getting Down with the Arcana [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuumegari/pseuds/Odessa%20Santa%20Maria
Summary: Julian feels that it's time for he and Beatriz, the apprentice, to consummate their love. He proceeds to do so in a most Devorak-fashion, and proves to be a very, very attentive lover.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Getting Down with the Arcana [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627870
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: So I've been reading all the wonderful Arcana smut out there and I feel like almost all of them have Julian being pegged (lol) as a slightly delightfully wonderful masochist. I've decided to try and see how he'd fare with a little more dominance, trying to lean into his whole doctor-side. I figure he must have studied some of the fun parts of the female body. There is one small instance of a squirting orgasm here, so if that is not your thing, you may want to move on to a different story. Otherwise, enjoy!

It is nearly midnight, but I hear a familiar tapping on my window at the palace. I chuckle, putting my book down before I pull open the curtains. As I expected, Ilya is at my window, flower in hand, debonair as ever. Undoing the latch, I invite him in with a wave of my hand and a mock bow. “Good evening, Master Ilya,” I lilt, my head still bowed. “What can I do for you this evening?”

He puts on his signature grin, choosing to answer by cupping my face with his gloved hand, and tilting my chin up for a sweet kiss. “I see I’ve been expected,” he teases, brushing a lock of dark hair out of my face. “I simply wanted to see you, Beatriz. Is that so wrong?”

“As if you didn’t already live with me,” I chuckle, accepting the cerulean flower and inhaling its soothing scent. He _did_ essentially live with me, for all intents and purposes, after all recent events had transpired. This week, I happened to be at the palace for work, and I'd asked him to water my plants while I was out.

“Coming home to you is always the highlight of my day, Beatriz,” he replies with another kiss and a pout. "When work takes you away, well. I have to make do, don't I?"

Although it’s been a month since the events of the Masquerade, I still can’t help but blush whenever he says things in such an earnest manner. Maybe it’s because I know that he enjoys putting on airs when he’s among the public. Maybe it’s because I know that this Julian — this Ilya — is mine, and mine alone.

“Why the theatrics this evening?” I ask, carefully adding the flower to my nearly overflowing vase of his gifts in the short week I've been gone. “I know you know how to use a door.”

“Very funny, Beatriz. Since when do I need a reason for theatrics?”

He has a point, but I giggle all the same. I turn to look up at him; I may be tiny in stature, but he has a way of making me feel like I’m floating. I note with interest that he’s as red as his hair, and he’s looking everywhere except for me. His arms are crossed over his chest as usual, but he’s fiddling with the small satchel hanging from his belt. Clearly, he wants to ask me something, but doesn't know how to best say it. “Hmm. I can’t tell if you’re about to ask me if you could have me as your audience for a rehearsal, or if you’ve broken something and you don’t want to say what it is.”

At this, he somehow manages to redden further than he already is, and nearly turns away. But he trains his eye on me, and I can tell he’s serious. I sit on the bed, blinking, looking up at him expectantly, ready to listen. “I’m sorry, Julian. I’ll be nice. What’s troubling you?”

His lips part as he takes a measured breath in, breathing out very slowly. I fight the urge to wring my hands; I get so nervous when I can feel silence creeping onto my skin. Before I can ask again, Julian is on his knees, taking my hand in his like a prince. My eyes widen. He brushes his lips over my knuckles before saying in a hurried, clumsy, endearing way, “Beatriz. I want to make love to you. Right now. Would you do me this honor?”

My mouth hangs open in a small gasp. Julian doesn’t rise from his prone position, and his hand is shaking ever so slightly in mine. Is he afraid of my answer? I imagine he might be; he’s always sought confirmation in the past, no matter how much I tell him that I love him. Equipped with this knowledge, I respond in kind by kneeling on the bed, level with him as much as I can be, and I kiss him with all of my being. My arms wrap around his neck naturally, and my head tilts in the perfect position so that our noses don’t collide. _Julian is a man who needs solid proof,_ I think to myself as I shyly slip my tongue against his lips. I shiver when he moans in response, allowing me access, and I hear the sound of his leather gloves being tossed onto the floor.

I taste sea salt and smell the night breeze in his clothes. Tentatively, he slides his bare fingers through my silky hair against my scalp, and I feel the vibrations of pleasure through our mouths. I can’t help myself from doing the same to his tousled auburn hair, using the opportunity to pull my body closer to his.

In our time together, we hadn’t the luxury of thinking about this part of our relationship. Simply being with him in this room, his hands on my hair and the small of my back, ignites a furious lust in me that I didn’t know I possessed. We’d kissed before on several occasions, of course, but perhaps he was too much of a gentleman to ever press the subject. There were times when I wondered if he wanted to lay with me at all, but I put the thought out of my head every time he brought me a flower. Or every time he nearly left marks on my neck.

Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss, panting slightly, his lips curved in that devilish grin. Without a word, he lifts me into his arms and deposits me onto the chaise longue with great care. Before I can ask what he intends to do, his head is under my flowing nightgown, and I can feel his hot breath on my thigh. He runs his calloused hands against my smooth skin, and I’m left to imagine his expression as he kisses my inner thigh gingerly. I lean back with a pleased sigh, extremely conscious of the hardness of my nipples showing through the silky nightgown. I want to see his handsome face as he lingers near my most private parts, and I am ready to say so when I am interrupted by my own gasp.

He’s taken a fingertip to my clit. I let out a whimper without meaning to, my legs involuntarily trying to close around his head; I hear him chuckle, and the breath of it sends electricity through my spine. My hips move on their own, trying desperately to have more of his touch on my sex, and I don’t have long to wait. Julian, always prepared to give his all to me, begins rubbing at the little nub at a frenzied pace.

“Ilya...!” I squeal, my body reacting strongly to the sudden introduction of relentless pleasure by arching my back upward. “Ilya...oh, Ilya...mm...”

Legs shaking, I bring my thumb to my mouth, hoping to quiet myself. I’d hate to have someone walk by, especially since Nadia had insisted on letting me stay at the palace while I did work for her guests. Gods forbid Portia eavesdropping; and Muriel had been known to burst if I screamed when I saw a spider. Best to keep my moans quiet.

Oh, but the scream I want to let out is hungry and drunk with pleasure. Imagining his face is hardly enough, but it was exciting to not see what he was going to do next, and so we continued. A strong hand stills my trembling leg while the other mercilessly teases the tiny mound of sensitive flesh beneath my panties. They were soaked through. Attempting to steady my erratic breathing, I try to catch my breath long enough to ask him if I could simply remove my nightgown, but he strikes again. This time, he’s moved the cloth to the side, and his finger is teasing the opening of my slit. I’m so slick that it glides in easily, nearly going inside, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose my resolve and scream after all. Before I can utter his name, I’m assaulted by another seductive sensation.

Panting like a cat in heat, I struggle to keep myself together once he starts using his tongue to assail my clit. The difficulty only increases when he starts to push his finger into me in earnest, moreso when he starts to suckle at the knob of flesh when I least expect it. Grabbing a throw pillow, I slam it against my face, muffling my lewd moans. Curiously, he curves his finger while he’s inside of me. I’m still enjoying the original sensations when he starts moving his finger, as if trying to beckon me over to him, and it hits a spot that makes my eyes roll to the back of my head.

I swear I can hear a faint ringing sound, and I wonder if I’ve lost consciousness for a second or a minute or a day when I come back to reality. My entire body is shaking uncontrollably, and while Julian hasn’t stopped, I can hear him chuckling from under my dress as he works. Biting my lip, I manage to lift my skirt just enough to see that wonderful shock of red hair. This time, he obliges me with his visage, licking the juice from his grinning lips, his finger still working tirelessly. In this light, he resembles an incubus, and one I would gladly give myself over to in a heartbeat if he'd asked. “Do you like that, Beatriz?” he asks, his vibrato voice deep and husky. “I know the human body well, don’t you think?”

From behind the throw pillow, I cast my dark eyes down at him, my brows furrowed in an amazed pleasure. I'm certain my face is an incredible shade of pink, and I must look like some shy maiden, which isn't a look that suits me, I think. Still, I’m amazed I can speak when I ask, “Won’t you show me just how well you know it?”

His eye widens with mischievous glee, and without another word, he’s under my dress again, inserting one more finger into my tight opening. He presses down on my pelvis, just above where his finger is buried, and gives my clit a quick lick before asking, “Are you ready, Beatriz? I’m going to show you something that I think you'll like. If the papers are any indication of trust, you're apparently meant to experience...well, it says heaven, but I'm not sure about that part of the paper.”

Intrigued and incredibly aroused, I simply nod. Before he begins, he applies a lubricant to his fingers, pushing them in and out of me to keep me slick. He takes a deep breath, pressing down on my pelvis again gently, before his other hand rams its curved fingers in and out of me with incredible speed. Somehow, he's able to flick the pad of his thumb against my clit as if he's trying to remove a stubborn spot. I barely have time to moan; each sound is caught in my throat, and I’m losing control of my body. Julian does not waver in his intensity. Every part of my being feels as if it’s tingling with warmth, like I'm bathing in sunlight. I take a shuddering breath, and I see stars.

I collapse onto the chaise longue, now actually used as a fainting couch, twitching uncontrollably. Julian grabs a towel he’d had handy and wipes his fingers clean. To my horror, he also dabs at his face and neck. “Oh, gods,” I mutter, still stupid from orgasm, completely mortified at the implication. “I-I’m so sorry, I...”

But Julian is still smiling, and there is no trace of disgust; rather, he wears a triumphant, thoughtful expression. “So the hypothesis was correct,” he muses, gently sliding his fingers up from my pussy to my belly upward, stopping at the tiny round pebble-like shapes under the nightgown. His breath is warm, but the stickiness he trails on my body cools me down. It’s delicious torture when he carefully flicks my nipple, just enough to send a shockwave through my veins again. “You, my dear Beatriz, are simply exquisite. And your body reacts very nicely, don’t you think? It’s a spot that’s hard to reach unless someone is helping you, and I would very much like to be that someone, whenever you might need...some release.”

He cups each breast in his graceful hands, squeezing gently, marveling at the softness and springiness. Through the fabric, he suckles at my nipple. My entire body is an erogenous zone after his last experiment, and I am grateful to have my pillow at the ready as his mouth wets the fabric over one of my breasts and his thumb circles my nipple on the other. By this point, I do wonder if I have actually died and gone to heaven. I’d never known pleasure could be like this.

“You’re a vision, Beatriz,” he remarks quietly, raising his eyes to me. “If only you could see your face now. How lovely you look in the light. The way your eyelids are half-shut, the blush on your face.”

My desire is stronger than my voice when I say plainly, “Julian, please, don’t tease me any longer. I want to feel you inside of me. On top of me. I need you.”

“How could I ever say no to you?” Julian growls playfully, standing at his full height. He begins stripping; at some point he had tossed his coat to the ground, and he busied himself with the remaining buttons of his shirt. There was little concealing the tent in his trousers, which he undid mercilessly slowly, his sultry gaze never leaving my eyes as he unbuckled his belt. Why on earth was that so arousing? He had a way of bringing heat to my cheeks no matter what he did, but once he rid himself of his pesky clothes, I was surprised I hadn’t caught aflame.

He called me a vision, but I would argue that he is more than easy on the eyes. Never one to slouch, Julian’s posture makes him seem even taller than normal. His chest, lightly covered with curly hairs, was well-sculpted to his lean body. The shape of his frame was all angles in its slender glory, and the lines from his abdomen to his pelvis seemed to point at the prize I was keen on taking. Fully erect, his curved cock was as streamlined as the rest of him, with a few veins throbbing here and there. I opened my mouth to take a deep breath as I absorbed his figure.

“Now, how to best pleasure you, my dear magician,” he murmurs, leaning in towards my face, his thumb stroking my cheek as he plants the softest of kisses onto my lips. It’s maddening to experience the dissonance between his gentle movements and the rough ones I’d like us to pursue. I want nothing more than to switch places with him, so that he can be lounging there while I pleasure him with my mouth, my hands, my breasts...and perhaps pleasure myself in the process.

“You look like you want something from me, love,” Julian teases me once more with this, and he raises his eyebrows as I smile back at him as sweetly as I can muster.

“I want your cock inside of me, Ilya. I want to feel you thrusting in and out of me. Make me scream your name into the night. I want you to feel how wet you’ve made me. I want to come together with you. Please, Ilya...”

He rests his forehead against mine as he strokes my hair, whispering into my ear, “To hear such delicious words come out of that pretty little mouth of yours...oh, Beatriz. I will make sure you are thoroughly pleased tonight, and any night you want me.”

Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded melodramatic and embarrassing. But when Julian says it, he makes me feel incredibly worthy of love and pleasure, and he makes the rest of the world float away. I wonder for a moment: how might I make him feel the same way? He scoops me into his arms before I can think of a potential answer. “Where do you want me?”

Conscious of my blush, I look from the bed to the chaise longue, and to my surprise, even the window. He follows my gaze three times and grins wickedly. “Beatriz, you are quite the minx,” he chuckles. “Why not all three?”

“Wh-What?” I stammer, involuntarily covering my face with my hands. He lays me onto the bed after kicking aside the duvet and offers another kiss that I gratefully accept. His skill at multitasking is astounding. Within those few seconds, he has managed to rid me of my nightgown and my panties. Perhaps I was too distracted by his tongue in my mouth.

Straddling me in a kneel, he props my back up onto a few sturdy pillows, raising my hips high enough for him to reach easily. Biting his lip, he grasps his cock, stroking it a couple of times slowly, making sure I'm watching him, before he rubs the tip against my slit. He moans as I whimper. The heat from his penis is incredible, and from just the tip I can tell that it’s throbbing with need. Breathing ragged, he turns a serious eye to me. “You’re sure, Beatriz?”

I am on the verge of commanding him to get on with it, but I’m touched at his thoughtfulness. Simply nodding, I spread my legs, inviting him inside.

A guttural groan emanates from his throat as he slides an inch, then two inches, then nearly all of it into my tight crevasse. He lacks girth, but I can tell that the slight curve of his hard-on is more than likely going to hit that same spot he’d done earlier with his fingers. He alternates pirate’s curses and statements of my beauty as he continues pushing the rest of his length into me. Surely enough, the tip does hit that spot, and I will my body to remain calm for a few moments more. The pillows he'd set up for me were angled in a way that would ensure his tool would hit its target. I want to savor the feeling of his full cock inside of me, stretching me and moulding me to its shape. As I control my breathing, I feel my muscles contract around his rod, and the action is enough to make him hiss in ecstasy.

“I want to make this last all night,” he growls. Quickening his pace, my eyes widen as the tip of his penis assails my weak spot over and over again; in this curious position, he is able to push into me deeper, harder, faster. Julian knows how to utilize his height when it comes to me, and he moves his body with ease as he fucks me senseless.

As soon as I’m on the edge, he slows down. I can’t help but look at him and whimper, nearly crying with how much I need him to keep going. “Tell me you love me, Beatriz. I can feel your walls around me, squeezing me tight, and you don’t want to let me go. I very much feel the same,” he says in between heavy breaths, sliding his fingers against my jawline, my mouth, my tongue. “I love the way your voice sounds when you moan. It’s like a symphony.”

“Ilya,” I manage weakly, my hips bucking against him instinctively. “I love you, Ilya. Julian. My Ilya. You fit so perfectly with me.”

At this, he grunts and pumps into me with a sudden burst of speed, and I can’t stop myself from screaming his name. I haven’t the sense to muffle myself, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m hoping that everyone’s fast asleep. But at the forefront, I’m seeing fireworks behind my eyelids. I am somehow able to move my legs onto his shoulders, and he grabs hold desperately as he throttles me relentlessly. From the throbbing heat in my abdomen, I can tell he’s close. He holds me like his life depends on it, and thrusts so deep into me that I feel a jolt of electricity in my spine. Seconds later, I know that he’s filled me with his come, and I faintly realize that I’m hurriedly telling him that I’m coming, too.

Our bodies glistening in sweat and lovemaking, Julian collapses next to me, brushing a lock of hair from my face. We’re both panting in tandem, and we chuckle when we realize it. “Beatriz, I wish I could tell you how much I love you.”

“I can think of a few ways,” I say suggestively. “But I don’t need a reminder to know you love me more than words can say. Nor do I need one tell _you_ I love you, and will for every day of my life.”

I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, snuggling close to him. A thought occurs and I ask, "Julian? Why was today the day you chose to do this? I know we could've done it any other day, but...it seems very random. It's not your birthday, and I don't think it's mine."

He glances askance, his face suddenly pink. I raise my brows at him, wondering if he had a reason at all, poking his side lightly. He struggles not to laugh; apparently, he's ticklish there. I store this important knowledge for later.

"Well?"

Stammering, he launches his right hand backward, feeling for his cloak. He stumbles off the bed, realizing he'd dropped it there, and absently gathers the duvet to cover our naked bodies as he cozies himself against me once more. I blink expectantly. "I, er," he begins before coughing, lowering his voice an octave; he often does this when he wants to sound serious and not sarcastic. "How shall I put this? Um. I probably should have done this part first."

With clever sleight of hand, he makes a flower appear...with a ring in his other hand. Unconsciously, my hands fly to my mouth, covering my gasp. He holds me steady, removing his eyepatch, and he locks his intense gaze onto me. "Would you accept my utmost devotion, Beatriz? Throughout all that's happened...you've stayed by my side. When I was convinced I was an evil man, an irreconcilable criminal, a failure...to you, when I should have been there. And I...I hope you understand, Beatriz, I swear that I'd do anything for you," he murmurs, never breaking eye contact. "Marry me, Beatriz. Stay with me."

My heart hammers in my chest; then, smiling, giggling like an idiot, I throw my arms around him. "Julian. I want nothing more than that," I reply with firm confidence, trying to wipe a rogue tear from my cheek. "I'll stay with you. I love you. Even if you think you did things out of order here, I...I think that this is exactly how I would have wanted a proposal to go, anyhow. To feel you next to me, and then to know that you'll _always_ be next to me."

We share a kiss, full of passion and promise. He breaks away, and with his signature grin, he reminds me, “Ah, but it's not over yet, is it? I told you I’d make this last all night, love. Allow me to demonstrate what you can expect from me once you're stuck with me for good...”

“It would be my absolute pleasure, Ilya,” I smile, completely content, allowing him to shower me with kisses, and all the other symbols of his devotion.

I imagine we won't be able to get much sleep tonight.


End file.
